Filed Trip
by Unexplained-Silence
Summary: G1. Prowl gets to go on a field trip to the Iacon Enforcer Headquarters! Only...he doesn't want to. But he finds something that makes the trip worth it. Rated due to paranoia. Summary sucks.


Well, this idea came to me when I was trying to think of something to write for NaNoWriMo. Now that NaNo's almost over, and I've pretty much put that on hold, I have a chance to publish this.

It's Thanksgiving. Just saying.

Transformers does not belong to me, however sad that may be. The franchise belongs to Hasbro.

Time schedule:  
Tik- second  
Breem- minute  
Joor- hour  
Cycle- day

* * *

He didn't want to be here. He _really _didn't want to be here. The entire thing was absolutely pointless. He didn't even want to be an Enforcer, for Primus's sake!

Yet here he was, on a transport, surrounded by his classmates, on the way to the Iaconian Enforcer headquarters. The field trip was funded by Prowl's academy, as a way for almost-adult mechs (and femmes) to see their chosen career up close and personally. Or, in Prowl's case, for undecided mechs (and femmes!) to get a taste of different professions and see if they like the taste of any.

The only upside for Prowl was that Bluestreak was here, too. At least he'd have someone to talk to, and he would be able to make sure that Blue wouldn't get into any unfortunate situations so that he wouldn't have to condole the mech later.

Prowl frowned at that thought. He glanced at the other Praxian and watched the excited mech talking animatedly to him. Or, as would be more accurate, _at_ him. Prowl had stopped listening in favor of brooding, and Bluestreak hadn't noticed or didn't care.

But he was fine. No one was interrupting him, and the transport was still a good 20 breems from Iacon.

Normally, Prowl was not one to succumb to moping, but given his situation it was perfectly acceptable. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

He wouldn't even be moping if it weren't for his creators. They were the ones who had forced him to go.

_"But Prowl, how do you know you don't want to be an Enforcer if you don't know what being an Enforcer is like?" _His creators had asked. It had been so nice to know that taking advantage of his rather unfortunate logic glitch wasn't above them.

_"But Prowl, it's in your best interest." _His carrier had said. _"Haven't you mentioned before that you want to visit Iacon?" _He did want to go to Iacon, but not to attend some boring-aft lecture about the duty and honor and responsibility of 'serving one's city.'

_"Besides," _his sire had thrown out all-too casually, _"Bluestreak will be going, and you know how he has a knack for getting into unpleasant situations." _

That's the real reason Prowl was there. He and Bluestreak weren't brothers, but they might as well have been. Bluestreak's carrier was Prowl's sire's sister, and they had grown up right next door to each other. They had attended the same sparkling academy, and they were attending the same academy now. Prowl would do anything to protect Bluestreak, including wasting a full cycle of valuable study time to make sure the gray Praxian didn't get into any trouble.

Frag them all.

He had an exam today. He really didn't want to miss it. The instructor had said he could make it up next cycle, but Prowl didn't like making things up. He liked getting things done on time, early if possible.

But no. Bluestreak just had to sign up for the trip, just had to decide that he really wanted to be an Enforcer, just had to inadvertently drag Prowl along against his will.

The transport jerked to a sudden stop, snapping Prowl back to attention. "Oh, good! We're here!" Amazingly enough, Bluestreak still found the energy to be excited after a good joor of talking to anyone who would listen. (Somewhere along the line he had noticed that Prowl wasn't paying attention, because he was currently talking to one of the twins-Sideswipe, Prowl thought.)

Another thirty breems later, they were all seated neatly in what looked to Prowl like an interrogation room stuffed with foldable chairs. There were only seven students on the trip, himself included, so the small room held them all.

The mech that had come out to greet them and act as their escort, a lean blue and white mech with a Towers accent, stood before a table, shuffling datapads and looking at the chronometer fixed on the wall. Waiting for someone.

After a breem or so of this the mech ex-vented and turned to smile at the assembly. "Well, it looks like my partner's running late, so I'll go ahead and start. Hi, my name is Mirage, and I work for the Iaconian Enforcer Headquarters. I'd just like to say how excited we are to have young mechs and femmes eager to get a closer look at the brave-" There it was, the first term of glorification. _Brave._ Prowl tried not to flick his doorwings as he mentally started a tally. He would need an exact number in order to prove his point to his Sire. "-bots who protect and serve-"

The door swooshed open, and in walked...

"Jazz?"

Perfection.

The mech was black and white, with a very stunning splash of blue. He had a brilliant blue visor covering his optics, and a small smirk at the look on Mirage's face. And the way he walked was simply...melodious.

Prowl didn't realized that he had jolted ram-rod straight. The entirety of his focus (which was of considerable size) was on this mech, this 'Jazz.'

But Bluestreak noticed. So did Sideswipe, judging from his small snicker. Sunstreaker couldn't care less, and the rest of the students didn't know Prowl well enough to read his reaction for what it was.

Bluestreak nudged the other Praxian's arm with his servo, but soon gave up his fruitless attempts at getting Prowl's attention.

"Sorry, 'Raj. Ironhide called for backup, and Hound was the only one around to answer. Seein' as I was just getting off patrol, I figured ya'd appreciate some help." Jazz reached the table and Mirage said something in reply. Prowl didn't hear what it was; his audios were filled with that incredibly sultry voice and that amazing accent.

Damn. Just...damn. This mech even spoke musically. Being from Praxus, Prowl knew how to appreciate fine art and music. And Jazz was both of these, living and breathing.

Whatever Mirage said, it made Jazz laugh, and Prowl immediately cursed himself for not listening. He wanted to know Jazz found humorous, because the sound had made Prowl's internals quiver with delight.

Accompanying Bluestreak to Iacon suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

* * *

A/N I always have liked the Sparkling!Prowl thing. And I imagine that a lot of bots would get irritated at Bluestreak for constantly rambling about nonsense stuffs.


End file.
